How to get crash back to Earth after the end of summer
After months of late nights, erratic schedules, spontaneous trips, and the kind of freedom that makes you forget what day it is, September hits like a cold shower. Suddenly, 8:30 a.m. lectures, deadlines, and a constantly pinging Outlook calendar return with a vengeance. Rebuilding a routine after a chaotic summer feels like dragging your sunburnt, half-feral self out of bed and trying to remember how to be a person again.
But here’s the thing: it’s not just hard — it’s necessary.
It’s more than just time management. Rebuilding a routine is about reclaiming a sense of control and purpose. It’s about remembering why you’re here, what you want, and how to not burn out by week three. It’s about fighting back against the mental fog that summer’s disarray leaves behind. And while TikTok productivity hacks and five-step morning routines might make it seem like all you need is a better planner or a $30 water bottle, the truth is, rebuilding your routine takes a bit more intention — and a lot more honesty.
Let’s not pretend summer didn’t completely derail us. Maybe you worked a soul-crushing job. Maybe you had the time of your life and don’t remember a single academic thought crossing your mind. Maybe you tried to be productive but ended up doom scrolling in bed every day until 2 p.m.
Whatever it was, own it. Pretending that you’re stepping back into campus life as your “best self” is not only unhelpful — it’s delusional. You’re probably starting this semester tired, unfocused, and maybe a little emotionally hungover. That’s okay.
Routines don’t thrive on guilt. They thrive on realism. If you start by expecting yourself to operate like a machine from Day 1, you’re setting yourself up for burnout. Start by being honest about where you’re at. Then, build from there.
The temptation to overhaul your life is real. You want to wake up at 6 a.m., go to the gym, eat a perfectly balanced breakfast, and get all your readings done before lunch. That’ll last maybe two days.
The key to rebuilding a routine is lowering the bar. Seriously — lower. Lower than you think. Wake up 30 minutes earlier, not two hours. Pack your bag the night before. Read some of the assigned reading, not all 120 pages in one sitting. Build trust with yourself in tiny ways. When you keep small promises, you’re more likely to keep bigger ones.
Trying to rebuild a routine all at once is like trying to clean your entire apartment in one frantic evening: it’s exhausting, and it won’t stick. Instead, think of it like brushing your teeth. You don’t wait to feel “motivated” to do it. You just do it. It’s boring, automatic, and effective — and that’s the point.
There’s a version of you that lives in your head. That version of you goes to every lecture, eats vegetables, and finishes assignments a week early. That version is a lie.
Design your routine around who you actually are, not who you wish you were. If you’re not a morning person, stop trying to be one. If you study best at night, stop forcing yourself to hit the library at 9 a.m. Your routine should support your energy, not fight against it.
This might mean skipping morning workouts if you’re chronically sleep-deprived. It might mean doing your readings while eating dinner instead of in the library where you pretend to work but actually watch YouTube for three hours. Be brutally honest about your habits — then build around them.
Your routine will fall apart. You will sleep in. You will miss a lecture. You will stare at your laptop for an hour and write nothing. That doesn’t mean you’re lazy. It means you’re human.
Perfectionism is the enemy of consistency. It tricks you into believing that if you can’t do everything perfectly, it’s not worth doing at all. But rebuilding a routine isn’t about perfection — it’s about resilience. It’s about showing up again even when you failed yesterday.
When you mess up (and you will), don’t catastrophize. Don’t declare the day ruined. Just pivot. Pick the next thing and do it. The more you practice, the stronger your routine gets.
This is the part people skip: your routine has to matter to you.
If your schedule is just a bunch of obligations you resent, you’ll find every excuse to avoid it. But if your routine helps you feel sane, accomplished, and connected to what you care about, it becomes a tool, not a prison.
Attach meaning to your habits. Don’t go to the gym because “you’re supposed to” —go because it clears your head. Don’t do your readings to impress your prof—do them because you want to sound smart in class (or at least not sound like an idiot). Don’t plan your day to be productive— plan it to feel less chaotic.
When your routine is emotionally rewarding, it sticks. And more importantly, it feeds you rather than drains you.
A good routine is like a fragile ecosystem. All it takes is one all-nighter or one weekend bender to throw everything off. And once it’s off, inertia kicks in, and suddenly it’s been two weeks and you’re back to eating instant noodles at 3 a.m. while crying over overdue readings.
So, protect it. Say no to things that will destroy it. Make peace with being a little boring. You don’t have to go to every event or stay out until 4 a.m. every weekend. Boundaries aren’t lame — they’re self-respect.
There’s freedom in discipline. Not the rigid, joyless kind, but the kind that lets you feel in control of your time, your energy, and your life. And honestly, there’s nothing cooler than being the person who actually has their act together — especially when no one else does.
Rebuilding a routine isn’t just about getting your assignments done or showing up to class. It’s about who you’re becoming in the process.
It’s choosing clarity over chaos, momentum over stagnation, and agency over autopilot. It’s the slow, unsexy work of aligning your daily actions with your longer-term goals. And it’s the foundation of a university experience that doesn’t just survive, but thrives.
Summer may have scattered you, but you get to decide how you come back together.
So no, you don’t need to have it all figured out. You just need to start. And then keep starting. Every day. One small step at a time.
Because the routine isn’t the goal—it’s the launchpad.